Laughing
by Bella Winter Rose
Summary: After a hard day's night of facing cults and unexpected plot twists, Max and Logan get a little surprise that neither of them are prepared for. Chapter 10 is here!
1. Crash Crashes

            Crash was crowded tonight. The music blared, the people mingled and the bartenders were losing their patience. Max was loving every minute of it, looking dead sexy in a pair of hot pants and halter she'd borrowed from Original Cindy. She had a helluva time riding her motorcycle, getting catcalls from many men who enjoyed seeing tantalizing ladies in skimpy clothes on hard-bodied vehicles.

            _All the more reason to enjoy myself_, Max smiled as she gulped beer with Sketchy and Original Cindy. She wasn't even worried about Joshua tonight—she had stopped by to see him on the way to Crash, to bring him food and another new book.

            "No 'hang out' tonight, little fella?" Joshua asked.

            "Can't, Joshua," Max said sympathetically. "I've had a hard day. I need to let loose. I promise, next time, okay big fella?" She hugged him close.

            Joshua nodded, pulling away from Max's embrace. He opened one of the grocery bags she'd brought over, took out a Little Debbie box, opened the package and began munching on his favorite snack cakes he had taken a liking for ever since he'd escaped Manticore. 

            "Remember, no going outside," Max called over her shoulder.

            "People get scared," Joshua remembered between bites.

            "Exactly. Later."

            Yeah, nothing was gonna spoil her night out with Original Cindy. Sketchy decided to tag along at the last minute but Max didn't really care._ Hell, the more the merrier_. She'd been looking forward to this night all week. She'd even left her pager home along with Logan's cell phone she'd borrowed and never bothered to return.

            "Evening, ladies," an all-too familiar voice sounded behind her as she and Original Cindy sat at the bar waiting for their third pitcher of beer.

            Max flinched, not wanting to turn around. She had a feeling who it was but like an idiot, she turned and faced Alec, looking kind of sexy himself in tight jeans, a white shirt and a black leather bomber jacket.

            "Are you lost, little boy?" Max glared. "Do you need help finding your way home so you can get your momma?"

            Raising an eyebrow, Alec retorted, "Yeah, do you think you can follow me there? We can play house: I'll call _you _momma and you can call me Daddy."

            Max flinched, remembering the time they almost copulated back in Manticore. "In your dreams and my nightmares."

            "Great, I'll see you there."

            "What do you want?" sighed Max, twirling around childishly on the barstool until she was slightly nauseous and her share of beer was not helping to get rid of it. "I'm not about to let you spoil my plans. Remember what I said about that anvil…"

            "Hey, who said I was going to spoil your plans? How do I know you're not here to spoil mine?"

            "Spoil _your_ plans? Ha! I never knew you had an actual life outside of hookers, beer and being Monty Cora."

            "I'm a changed man, Maxie," Alec smirked.

            Max almost snorted. "I'll believe it when I see it. Now leave before you make me even more sick than I already am."

            "Gee, Max," Alec put a hand on Max's shoulder, squeezed lightly and gave her a sarcastic smile. "You're just as charming drunk as you are sober." He took his hand off of her, flicked a stray strand of her hair away from her eyes and winked at Original Cindy. Max balled up her fist and took a swing at Alec, but missed. He had caught a view of the round butt of a passing blond waitress that most people would describe as a stick, straightened his jacket and followed her.

Was she drunk? For some reason Max almost never got drunk but maybe she'd gone too far tonight.

"Boo, you okay?" Original Cindy asked. "You lookin' paler than a white cat on crack."

            "I'm…I'm fine," Max said. "Just a…tad bit ah, woozy. Y'know what? I think I'm just gonna go home right now."

            "Nuh-uh, friends don't let friends drive drunk," Original Cindy patted her friend's back. "We gotta get you a taxi or something, boo."

            "Why oh why did Alec have to show up just when I was having a good time?" Max grumbled. She stood up, surprised to discover she was not at all tipsy. Her stance was strong and the room wasn't spinning. "Hey, Cindy? I think I'm okay."

            "You sure?"

            "Uh-huh. I'm just gonna…yeah, just gonna go on home."

            "I'll see you there," Original Cindy said vaguely. "I'm gonna lay the smackdown on Sketchy's sorry ass at foosball. Have a nice night, boo."

            "Yeah, sure," Max yawned. She walked out of Crash, feeling sorry for herself. Why was Alec getting on her nerves tonight? He never bothered her before. Wait, scratch that—he bothered her all the time. He always showed up where he was least wanted and drove her crazy. Max stepped out into the cold Seattle night and mounted her motorcycle, perched in the bike rack. All she really wanted to do now was smear the glitter off her arms and chest, rinse the gel out of her hair and slip into a soft cotton tank top and baggy-baggy sweatpants.

            Unfortunately, as soon as Max stumbled into the door, Logan's cell rang. She picked up with a groggy, "Hello?"

            "Max? Where were you? I've been paging you all night," Logan's voice was so steely cold it gave Max the shivers.

            "Surprise, surprise. What dastardly deed are the bad guys up to now and can it wait till tomorrow?"

            "Listen, if you're not up to it, I can always get in touch with Asha—"

            _Asha?_ Max gripped the phone and saw red. _How could he suggest that right in front of me, the insensitive bastard! _"No, no," Max said quickly. "I can do it. I'm just a little wiped. Seriously. What's the job?"

            "Grigory Efminovitch's 18th-century reliquary. Said to bring eternal life and power to its owner."

            "Who's Grigory Efminovitch and what's a reliquary and what does this all point to?"

            "He was a monk and friend of the tsaritsa Alexandra Romanov. Also known as Rasputin, meaning dissolute, he was looked down upon as a fraud. His reliquary is a small box or glass tube and their made for holing relics—usually human bones."

            "Ugh." Max had heard some pretty weird stuff in her short time with Logan, being his eyes and ears, but carrying around a glass box of bones?

"Yeah, I know. Anyway, it's said that Rasputin's reliquary contained the bones of Jesus Christ himself and gave him absolute power. Anyway, the reliquary was in a museum in St. Petersburg until it was stolen and smuggled into the United States. It circulated the black market for months."

"And you're telling me this because?"

"Because there's a price on it's return."

"There's more you're not telling me, Logan Cale. Who's holding the damn thing captive?"

She heard Logan sigh and mutter, "A cult called the Chosen. They think the story of absolute power was real and, of course, bought it."

"A cult? Damn it," she added silently. There was a disconnection from her spine to her brain at the moment. "I'm going after a cult," she yawned. "I'll be over in a few minutes to get the details. Let me get out of these clothes."

"I'm not going to ask."

"Then don't. Later."

_A good thing that did,_ Max thought as she slid out of the hot pants and halter, _leaving the damn pager and cell at home._


	2. Information

            Max grumbled the entire time on her motorcycle ride to Logan's.

_Why now? First Alec, then Logan. God, where do I find these guys who ruin evenings? I haven't been so reluctant to see Logan since I was in heat. Logan is the last thing I want to see when I'm in heat. Am I in heat? No, I couldn't be. Body temperature's normal. Okay, girl. Check your pulse. Breathe in…breathe out…in…out. Don't think about Logan. Damn it, that's not gonna work—I'm gonna see him in like, five minutes. What the hell's the matter with me tonight? Why am I so pissy? Sketchy must have put something in my drink or something._

_            The fate of Grigory Efminovitch's reliquary filled with Jesus bones is in my hands. Ha. So what, though? All in a days work. Work I don't get paid for. _Should_ I get paid for it? I _am_ like Robin Hood—steal from the rich and give to the poor…nah, I don't think they pay transgenic killing machines to filch priceless items._

"You had to call me tonight of all nights," was the first thing out of her mouth.

            "I apologize for any inconveniences," Logan responded, turning his wheelchair around from his computer screen and facing Max.

            "Just one question: if this reliquary doesn't have any real power, why bother getting it from the Chosen?"

            "It's an inestimable article," Logan said. "Like that baseball a few weeks ago. Ring a bell or are you too smashed to remember?"

            "I don't get 'smashed,' okay?" Max plopped onto a chair and began playing with her nails, chipping at the metallic icy-blue polish Original Cindy had applied only the night before.

            "What's the word you use, then?"

            "None! I don't…I don't get drunk. I do go a little overboard and—hey, why are we talking about me? What about you and Lady Ditz-A-Lot?"

            "You mean Asha?"

            "No, I mean my grandmother," Max rolled her eyes. "You gonna give me the address or do I stand here all night lookin' pretty?"

            Logan's eyes traveled up and down her body, from the light curls of her hair, to her puppy-dog brown eyes, the pouty lips, the nape of her smooth alabaster neck, her round, firm breasts…he shook his head and sighed. "I'd rather you stand and look pretty, but work's work."

            "Blah, blah—" Max muttered.

            "Woof, woof," he finished for her. "Heard it all before, Max." He turned back to his computer, shimmied the mouse around for a few, clicking on this and that. Then, the printer booted up and began to print out the info Max would be needing. "The leader of the Chosen is Aurelius Parvo."

"What exactly is the Chosen up to, anyway?" 

"They're the usual cult," Logan smirked. "Only they worship Grigory Efminovitch, who, like I said, was a monk. Most people considered him a holy man back in the 1890's, when it was believed he could cure Alexei Romanov's hemophilia. He was murdered by Tsar Nicholas's nephew-in-law. The Chosen sacrifice animals in Grigory Efminovitch's name, kidnap people and brainwash them, to make them part of their group and turn people against their own religion and Aurelius Parvo has been arrested for indecent exposure thirteen times—"

"You're kidding me."

"I kid not. He can be found wandering around nude with a streak of goat's blood across his chest in sector eight, screaming, 'Believe in the power of Grigory!'"

"How obscene."

"He's done worse, stuff I won't say in the presence of a lady."

"You callin' me a lady?"

"Well," Logan fumbled with his glasses. "Anyway, Aurelius Parvo has also been known to plant mini-bombs on his ex-followers."

            "Are you saying this is dangerous?" Max got up, plopped onto the hardwood floor and began to stretch her leg muscles. "I laugh in the face of danger. Ha, ha, h—" she was cut off by a bolt of lightning and she shrieked in surprise. "Damn it! How cliché is that, huh?" She stood and whipped the newly printed paper off the desk and scrutinized it. "Shit. I have to go into Steelhead territory?"

            "Not into it—pass it. I thought you laughed in the face of danger?"

            Max folded the paper four times and tucked it into her jacket. "Yeah, well—maybe only in ones named Aurelius."

A soft smile played on Logan's lips. "Go get 'em, Tiger."

Max winked and left, not looking back, wishing she could hug him. _Damn virus. _


	3. Clio

            The address was 608 Wagner Hill Road. It was shoddy, shabby, shady and all those bad words that start with _S_. It was a large structure though. It was probably a factory back in its heyday, before the Pulse hit. Yet the windows were broken, the hinges of the front door rusty and it was painted brown. The paint was also worn and chipping and there was mold forming towards the bottom and something was eating away at the corners.

Max stepped off her cycle, looking over her shoulder for those damn Steelheads. Another bad _S_ word. Max took off her sunglasses, wiped the rain from the lenses and tucked them into her coat pocket. 

Aurelius Parvo was most likely inside that _S_ building, along with about two hundred and eighty followers of the Chosen. The reliquary was most likely with him. 

_I can't believe I'm risking my ass for a glass box of Jesus bones, especially a glass box of Jesus bones that don't even hold the real power it supposedly possesses. It's not like I believe in Jesus anyway…_

Max kicked the rusted door off the hinges and it clunked to the floor inside, sending an infantry of all sorts of creepy crawlers her way. With a look of disgust, she stepped over them and ducked inside and was almost immediately dive-bombed by a bunch of bats. Max muffled her own scream and took cover. _How could the Chosen hang out in here? It's like Frankenstein's lair._

When Max stood perfectly still, she could hear the faint sound of chanting by dozens upon dozens of people. Her excellent hearing faintly picked up their words:

"_In the name of Jesus, we honor thou power and thou judgment, Father Grigory. We art thou chosen followers. We art thy children. We shall show thy love and thy devotion…_"__

_Whoa._ Max shivered. They were praying to Grigory Efminovitch. She was definitely about to deal with some fruit cakes. Being as quiet as she could, Max wandered around the factory. The voices, it seemed, were getting louder by the minute. In the distance, she saw a door, just as rusted as the front, but there was an ominous white light coming from underneath.

"_In the name of Jesus, we honor thou power and thou judgment, Father Grigory. We art thou chosen followers. We art thou children. We shall show thy love and thy devotion…_"

The voices were almost deafening now. Max gathered up her strength and kicked down the door. The hinges, under the weight of rust, practically disintegrated. The door hit the floor with a earsplitting bang. Max froze, fists up in fighting stance, with her eyes open wide when she saw what was in front of her: easily two hundred and fifty to three hundred people, covered head to toe in green robes tied about the middle with blue sashes were bowed before a very tall (easily seven foot) man with a very pale complexion with dark eyes and dark hair, also wearing a green robe, but his had a black sash. He stood on a raised platform. Max figured him to be Aurelius Parvo. He was holding the reliquary up high over his head and there was a powerful white light emitting from it. He was chanting along with everyone else.

_Shit, that thing's power is real?_ Max thought. "Party's over, freaks! Hand over the reliquary and no one meets Father Grigory in hell tonight." she roared at the top of her lungs. Aurelius Parvo looked at her in surprise.

"Who dishonors the holy name of Grigory?!" bellowed Aurelius, lowering the reliquary. The white light diminished slightly and the followers began to stop chanting and raise their heads in interest to see what was happening. "I shall have no such disgrace in my presence! Guards!"

Three men, in green robes with black sashes and easily twice Max's sized, ganged up on her. Max released a roundhouse kick, stunning them slightly but not letting up. They closed in on her while Aurelius barked at his cohorts,

"Who said you could stop chanting? Continue, continue! Father Grigory is not pleased!" he barked and stepped off the platform and produced a whip from between the folds of his green robe. He walked up and down the aisles of people snapping it left and right. The reliquary was still in hand.

While Max was distracted, two of Aurelius's three guards held her hands behind her back while the third threw a mean punch. Max jumped up and sprung her feet out in a high kick, catching her assailant in the jaw. He staggered, cupping his chin with one hand. Dribbling a fine line of blood from his mouth, he sneered, straightened up and gave Max another hit, but she ducked and he hit one of the two men holding her arms back. She bent over, throwing both men off and sending them flat on their backs. Without having time to catch her breath, she went after Aurelius. He wielded his whip, flicked it and caught Max about the neck, wrapping it around. Max frantically clawed at the strong leather as it choked her. All of a sudden, one of the chanters stood, pointed at Aurelius and announced, 

"Let go of her!" It was a feminine voice. Max's eyes roamed the room to see who it was.

"You dare speak to the Chosen father?" Aurelius asked, sounding very powerful.

The woman unrobed herself. She was slim but her hips were a little wider. Her shoulder-length hair was red and she wore light blue pedal pushers, a black tank-top and black army boots. "I dare speak, period. Let go of her, now!"

Aurelius laughed. Whilst he was sidetracked, Max was able to get a kick in, hitting him in the solar plexus. He fell to the floor, dropping the whip and she unwound it from around her neck, coughing as she caught the sweet breath of oxygen. The woman who had unrobed ran over to Max.

"I'll take the guards, you work on Parvo," she said hurriedly.

"Gotcha," Max agreed and took her fighting stance. As soon as Aurelius stood up, Max kicked the side of his head, sending him reeling once again. This time, he bounced back quicker. He held the reliquary up, chanted something not in English and then the reliquary shot a while light towards Max's chest. 

_Oh yeah, I'm _so_ sure it doesn't have any powers. _Sure,_ Logan._

The blast of light gave her an electric shock and it sent her to the floor. As she lay gasping, Aurelius delivered several harsh kicks to her abdomen. She re-gathered her strength, shot out her leg and fired a sweep kick, flinging Aurelius down. Max heard his head hit hard and saw a pool of blood form almost immediately, yet his eyes were still open. Standing, she grabbed the reliquary, threw it on the hard ground and stomped on it.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Aurelius bellowed when he heard the shatter of the glass.

When the reliquary was destroyed, Max dragged Aurelius down the aisle (leaving a messy trail of blood and tissue), rolled him onto the altar and pinned him, delivering three hard punches to his face. He was now unconscious.

The woman who had helped Max earlier was now two down, one to go. She was no bigger than Max herself but delivered the same hardcore Manticore military styling and kick ass moves. _Was this woman an X5?_

"Need a little help?" Max called.

"Yeah," the woman answered between blows. There was a cut gushing blood down the side of her face. Softly, Max snuck up behind the man the woman was beating on and kicked him hard in the back. He turned in surprise and she punched him hard. So hard, there were marks on Max's fist and she heard his jaw crack. Down he collapsed. Breathing hard, the woman gave Max a high five. 

The chanters had now stopped chanting all together and were gathered in a large mass on one side of the room.

"You can all go home to your families now!" Max announced. "Aurelius Parvo can control your lives no longer!"

With that, she turned and ran from the room. The red-haired woman followed her. Max didn't look back and notice her until they were outside. The cool night air greeted them.

"Thanks for your help," Max said to the woman. She extended her hand. "I'm Max, X5-452."

"You're a Manticore soldier?" the woman's eyes went wide. "I knew it. I'm X5-803, but you can call me Clio."

"I knew you were, too. No other chick I know can take out a guy like that."

"Ditto."

"So," Max sighed. "How did you know about Aurelius Parvo?"

Clio blew some stray hairs away from her face. "My ex tried to get me to join the Chosen once. I had an inkling Parvo was up to no good."

Max laughed and mounted her Ninja. "I mean it though. Thanks a whole lot. You local?"

"Yeah, I live in sector four."

"Cool. You ever need any help, Clio, look me up. I'll be happy to do a favor for you if need be." She added her address, put her sunglasses on, advised Clio to take care of her cut and sped off.

After a change of heart, Max turned around and beckoned Clio to get on the back of the Ninja. "I'll take you to get cleaned up." 

Clio resisted for a second but gladly hopped on. "Thanks."

"No problem," Max said. "It's the least I can do for now."


	4. Where Did They Go?

            "So she jumped out of the cult to save you?" Logan asked. Max had been back for ten minutes and she was filling him in all the details of the fight and Clio's appearance. She, Clio, was now resting comfortably on Logan's couch, a bandage and a bag of ice on her gash while Logan and Max sat in his office, he in his wheelchair, she perched like a sexy secretary on the edge of one of his desks.

            "What can I say? Maybe she was God sent?" Max smiled. "She's really nice, Logan. We talked the entire ride home."

            "And she's an X5?" 

            "What other kind of ninety pound girl can take out a guy nearly twice her size without breaking a sweat?"

            "Got me," Logan sighed. "Anyway, Aurelius Parvo and the Chosen are defeated."

            "For now," Max smirked.

            "Yet the reliquary's totaled."

            "Oh, well. Better off busted. We don't want it falling into the wrong hands yet again," Max stole a glance at Clio. "She's amazing. I've never seen another female X5 take out three guys at once."

            "Well, she spent more time in Manticore than you did. Maybe she had more time to develop her strengths."

            "I dunno," Max shrugged. She stole a glance at the clock on Logan's desktop computer. "Damn, it's late. I should be getting home and I told Clio I'd give her a ride back to her place."

            "Sure no problem." Logan followed her to the next room. He clipped the back of her heels by accident with his chair.

"Ow!" Max hissed.

Logan turned red, "Oh my God—I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Max rubbed her Achilles. 

"Ah, you want to come to dinner tomorrow night?"

"Is that how you apologize?" 

"I wouldn't be lying when I said it's the only way I know how."

They shared a secret smile for a second.

_Yeah we have this virus beat, _Max thought. "Hey, Clio? Let's blaze."

"Great, I gotta get home anyway," Clio stood, wiping off the bottom of her light blue pedal pushers as if she's sat in something dirty. She handed the ice bag to Max, who chucked it into the kitchen sink. "Thanks for your hospitality, Mr. Cale." Clio stuck out her hand and Logan shook it.

"Call me Logan. And it's no problem, Miss, um, Clio?"

Clio laughed. "I picked myself a last name a while ago, Mr. Cale. It's Belmont. But call me Clio."

"Well, then, it's been a pleasure Miss Clio Belmont."

"Right back at ya," Clio winked. 

"Later," Max said, taking Clio by the elbow.

After she had dropped Clio, off with a promise to return any favor and yelling her address over her shoulder, Max finally made her way home yet again. This time she hoped to succeed in at least stepping past the front door. 

_Original Cindy's probably still out—I haven't heard from her even on my pager. She's most likely shacked up with another one of her minute maidens. _

_Clio's a pretty cool character. I hope she takes me up on that offer just so I can see her again. Besides Joshua and—ugh—Alec; either way you toss the dice, I have no more Manticore buddies that I'm currently in contact with. Zack's on a farm as Adam Thompson, Brin's…I don't know where she is, Tinga's dead, Ben's dead, Jondy I haven't seen in awhile. God damn, where did everyone go?_

Max's apartment that she shared with Original Cindy was in sight now. She could almost smell the big cup of coffee she was planning on enjoying, along with a book Joshua lent her, a couple of vanilla-scented candles and, of course, her pajamas.

"Boo, where you been?"

So, Original Cindy _was_ home. She was dressed in her blue terrycloth robe and a baby doll nightie in the deepest purple and had brown leather slippers on her feet.

"Being Superman," Max yawned, flopping onto the couch and kicking off her shoes. She wiggled her toes like she hadn't done it in ages.

"Another night on the job. Damn do the evil guys rest at all?" Original Cindy shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Apparently not. Logan had me after a cult."

"Whoo, I ain't touchin' that with a ten-foot pole, boo. I'll leave it to my imagination."

Max sat up. "I did meet up with another X5. Her name's Clio. According to the grapevine she tried to stop the cult before I tried after her ex tried to get her to join."

"I am not hearin' this."

"Good, 'cause I don't feel like flapping my gums all night. I'm gonna curl up in bed and go into a coma." Max got up off the couch and made her way towards her room.

"What if Wheels calls while you're down for the count?"

Max turned, "Tell him I'm having the time of my life."


	5. Good Morning?

            Max didn't hear anything from Clio until two days later, in a way she didn't expect. 

            Upon awakening one morning after helping Logan track down a blood sample of Aurelius Parvo (it wasn't easy), Max was rattled from her semi-conscious state by a loud rapping on the front door. She buried her head under the pillow and told herself it wasn't happening and waited for Original Cindy to get it. When her roommate didn't revive, Max was forced to drag herself from beneath the covers and answer the door, screaming,

            "All _right_! All _right_! I'm _coming_! _Ruin_ my morning why don't you?!"

            She swung open the door in anger with such power it nearly came off. Astonished, she saw no one was there. Max looked up and down the hall with fire in her eyes, trying to catch sight of the thief who stole her extra two hours of sleep before she had to go and face Normal for the day. She then heard a soft whimpering sound, like a puppy or kitten nearby. Max looked down and her eyes popped out of her head: lying in a white bassinette, was a baby. A living, breathing baby—a child, wearing a pink and white bunting, a white knitted cap and pink booties. She had red, chubby cheeks and some strings of dark hair were poking through her cap. Next to the bassinette was a blue and yellow diaper bag that looked bulgingly heavy. Who in their right mind would leave their baby with Max of all people? Max was confused until she saw a white envelope tucked into one side of the bassinette. She opened it with caution and read the letter inside:

            _Dear Max,_

_                        I express regret for any hassle this might have caused you. Yet when you said if you could do any favor for me in return of helping you with Parvo, I knew you had to be the one to take care of my little Sofiya. Especially since you were a fellow X5._

_            In case you were wondering, which you most likely are,  yes—Sofiya is a product of a copulation right before you successfully burned it to the ground.  I cannot name her father in this particular letter. She's my little sunshine angel, but for now she's in great danger, as am I, which is why I must go away and leave Sofiya with you. All though you doubt me, I swear to you Max, the truth will come out sooner or later. _

_            Take care of yourself and Sofiya for me. _

_                        Sincerely,_

                                    Clio 

            The letter fluttered from her hand and onto the floor. Max stared disbelievingly at the baby, who was sleeping and mumbling to herself.

            "Well, Sofiya," Max raised an eyebrow. "Looks like I'm your baby-sitter."

            Slipping the letter and envelope into her bra, she carefully picked up the baby in her bassinette with one arm, grabbed the diaper bag with the other and took it all inside, closing the door with her foot.

            "Hey, Cindy!" Max called towards the bedroom, setting Sofiya down on the kitchen counter and plopping the diaper bag next to her and plopping down on a chair herself.

            "What?" answered her roommate groggily.

            "We got company!"

            "Hang on. Let a girl get decent!"

            A minute later, Original Cindy emerged. It took her a couple of seconds to realize Sofiya in her bassinette. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. "Boo when you said you were busy with Logan last night, you were really biz-_ay_, weren't you?"

            "How many times do I have to tell you we're not like that?" Max fired. "Anyway, read this." She thrust Clio's letter at Original Cindy and peaked inside the diaper bag. It was filled with pretty much what she expected: diapers, wipes, changes of clothes, bottles, formula, blankets and a soft little brown teddy bear. 

            "Boo, you gotta get to this chica and tell her you ain't gonna play Mary Poppins while she boundin' over the fens like some sorta mother crazy soul-searcher."

            Max stared a while at her friend, "I see your lips moving, but I have no idea what's coming out."

            "What I'm _sayin'_ is you should be gettin' paid."

            "I can't ask Clio to pay me, Cindy. I told her I'd return a favor for her and if she thinks this a suitable favor to ask of me, I have no qualms."

            Sofiya woke up and began to wail.

            "Boo, do you have any idea how to take care of a baby?" Original Cindy asked.

            Max looked at Cindy, then shifted her gaze to the screaming Sofiya and went back and forth until she blurted, "You really think this is the right time to ask?"


	6. Baby-Sitting

            A screaming child was the last thing Max needed to start her day. How was she to begin?

            "Boo, are you tellin' me you've never even held a baby?" Original Cindy was slightly annoyed. She rocked Sofiya in her bassinette.

            "Where was I suppost to experience the magic, Cindy? Between training and evaluation?" Max responded bitterly. "Damn it, why me? And I promised Logan I'd have dinner with him tonight."

            Sofiya was obviously persistent to be taken care of—her screams didn't let up. Original Cindy took charge, pushing Max aside and carefully picking up Sofiya and cradling her in her arms carefully. 

            "Ain't nothin' to it, boo," Original Cindy smiled as Sofiya quieted. "Just gotta understand why they tryin' to say."

            "I have _cat_ DNA, Cindy, not _soccer mom_."

            "Listen, I've baby-sat enough in my time to know how to take care of babies to an extent. Hold out your arms."

            "Say what?"

            "Did I stutter? Hold out your arms, Max."

            Rolling her eyes, Max extended both her arms stiffly. Original Cindy shifted Sofiya to one arm and with her free limb adjusted Max's so she would be able to hold the child safely. 

            "Stay just like that. I'm gonna put her in your arms, 'kay?"

            Max nodded and watched Cindy's moves, thinking the entire time, _Okay, support the head, support the bottom, smile stupidly a lot and keep arms bent like this. Shit I'm so not ready to have kids._

Max found it easy to do something as simple as cradle a baby in her arms when she had never done it before.

            "Sit down when you hold her most of the time so you don't drop her," Cindy advised. "'Specially since you ain't never held an infant."

            Holding Sofiya as carefully as she could, Max took tiny steps towards the couch. Cindy followed, keeping a watchful eye as if Sofiya were her child. 

            "Now what?" Max asked once she sat.

            "Well, she ain't crying now. Most of the time they just wanna be held."

            "How do you know what she wants?" _I can't believe I'm asking for child advice from Original Cindy._

            "All a matter of process of elimination. If a bottle doesn't work, try her diaper. If nothing's wrong with the diaper, she might just wanna be held," Cindy took a glance at the clock. "How we gonna explain all this to Normal?"

            "Just tell him I'll be late…hey, maybe Logan knows a little something about kids."

            "I highly doubt it," Original Cindy raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Meanwhile, I still have a paycheck to collect."

            "Wait—how am I gonna get to Logan's?" Max stopped her roomie from leaving. "I can't hold her and ride my cycle at the same time."

            Original Cindy pursed his lips. "We'll have to make a backpack of some kind. What were those things called?…" She went into the kitchen and began pulling things out of shelves and underneath couches and an hour later, Cindy and Max had figured out how to fasten Sofiya to Max's back in kind of a papoose. Sofiya didn't complain but Max admitted she felt silly.

            "I look like an old lady," she grimaced.

            "Nah, you just look like you need help," Cindy joked. "We gotta get dressed and outta here—you to Logan's and me to Jam Pony."

*

Jam Pony, of course, was bedlam by the time Original Cindy and Max showed up. Max unhooked Sofiya from her back, removed her from the backpack and held her tightly as biker after biker whizzed by them.

            "Bip, bip, bip! Come on you slackers! What the hell are you doing?" Normal barked orders like a common prison guard. "I'm not paying you to ride bikes all day. Oh, wait a minute—yes I am. Welly, welly, well, well," he had caught sight of them. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

            "I have some family—" Max started but Normal cut her off.

            "Family business to take care of. Now you listen good, missy-miss, I'm not going to have you going AWOL on me again."

            "Give a sista a break, man," Original Cindy said. 

            "Yeah," protested Max. "I need a personal day. It's a sad story, really. My sister broke her leg and, well, what can I say?" She held Sofiya out to him. "So you see my dilemma here, don't ya Normal?"

            "For the love of Mike, get this thing out of here," he pushed Sofiya (who had woken up and now peering around her surroundings) away with a look of disgust on his face as if he'd touched something dirty. Max took back the baby. "I see the family resemblance," Normal added, his words dripping in distain. "Just what I need around here—another Guevara. Take the personal day. Like I give a damn. I know you're just going to do it anyway."

            "Thanks, Normal," Max threw him a sarcastic smile. "I knew you'd understand." Just as she turned to leave, grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side. It was Alec.

            "If it isn't the great Max," he said, "carrying a heavier load than the other night. Looks like you had a little too much fun, huh?"

            "If you want to keep all your teeth, I suggest you let me go," Max ruthlessly tore her arm from Alec's grip. "And in case you can't count, a baby takes nine months to be born," she rolled her eyes. "She's not mine, I'm taking care of her as a favor to another X5."

            "Okay, whatever," Alec shrugged, looking at Sofiya warily. There was something in the infant's face that was sort of familiar. "Just don't count on getting the mother of the year award."

            "But of course you can always count on getting the idiot of the year award. I'll present you with the award myself with a boot up the ass."

            "Whoa, whoa, calm down," Alec almost laughed. "There's definitely some fire in that furnace."

            "Shut up," Max spat. After being dragged out of her sleep by Sofiya's arrival, she was too tired to think of any clever insults.

            She left Jam Pony, carefully strapped the baby to her back and go on her bike. She rode to Logan's as quickly as she could, praying that he knew something about babies or as a minimum, an inkling. Max laughed to herself, _Welcome to your world. Destroying cults by night, mother of the year by day. God, could I get around any more? _

_            Clio better have a good story to go along with this. It's only been a few hours but it feels like days—weeks, maybe— since Sofiya arrived. Her letter was so weird. Maybe Logan can figure out what she means when she said she and her daughter were  in danger. I'm glad I brought it with me._

            Amazed at how well Sofiya stayed still on the bike ride to Foggle Towers, Max unhooked her from her back and carried her to the elevator and went up to the penthouse. With fire in her eyes she had noticed Asha's car outside, beside Logan's Aztec.

            _Bitch._


	7. Sorting Out The Details

            Max waited outside Logan's office with a sleepy Sofiya cradled in the nook of her elbow. Both their cheeks were red from the ride and slightly chilly Seattle air. She could clearly see the profiles of both Logan sitting content in his wheelchair and Asha sitting on the edge of the desk just as Max had three nights ago when she first met up with Clio etched through the wall. They were a little too close for Max's comfort—Asha might as well be in Logan's lap, an image that almost haunted Max and even frightened her a bit to know there was another chick moving in on her turf.

_What are you so worried about?_ Max chided herself. _You can't even touch. Even when you could touch you didn't touch. But then again there was that one kiss…_

She had ducked low so they couldn't see her, yet nor could she see them anymore. She pressed her ear to the wall. Their voices, slightly muffled, she could hear perfectly.

            "I'm glad I caught you when I could," Asha said breathlessly. "Max is always hanging around here. Around her I can barely get a word in edgewise and all she does is shoot me down."

            "Give her a break, Asha," Logan sighed. Max heard the soft rumble of  him rolling his chair around and then him clicking some keys on one of his computers.

            "I'm trying, I really am." Max heard a soft creak of wood (probably Asha sliding off the desk) and the clicking of hard-soled shoes. "I know she most likely thinks I'm moving in on her turf or something and feels threatened by it."

            "I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest," sighed Logan. There was a pause. "She actually should be here any minute."

            "How can you tell? She shows up like she lives here for sobbing out loud."

            "Well, if there's nothing good to eat at her house she's most likely to pop in for a bite around now rather than show up on time for work and eat later."

            Asha snorted. _How fitting,_ Max thought with a smile. "Like I said, she shows up like she owns the place. Before you know it you'll be a bed and breakfast for all her furry little friends."

            "It's not like I'd mind," Logan said. Max could almost hear him smirk. This was her cue to enter.

            "Hey," she strode in with a smile, nonchalant about Sofiya on her hip. Asha, who saw her before Logan did, dropped her jaw. Logan, confused at Asha's reaction, had the same expression when he saw what Max was lugging in. He swallowed hard.

            "H-hi."

            Max smiled wide and gave Asha a sarcastic smile, "Good morning Asha."

            Asha blew her bangs out of her face, mumbled something that sounded like, "Forget this," uttered a quick goodbye and hightailed it away.

            "Guess she's not much for kids," Max commented after they had heard the door's echoing from the slam in Asha's haste to leave. 

            "Um, about that…" Logan eyed Sofiya warily. "Why are you here? I didn't call you or anything."

            Max was finally able to admit that she had no clue how to take care of a kid. "I'm completely clueless. I was hoping you had some knowledge…"

            Logan raised an eyebrow. "The great Max doesn't know about taking care of a baby? The same Max who can take down a cult in a single night? The same Max who beats me at chess unless she lets me win?"

            "The very same," Max added sardonically. "You gonna lend me a hand or what?"

            "Oh…sure," Logan rolled closer and held out his arms. Awkwardly yet carefully, Max placed Sofiya in Logan's arms, making sure she didn't touch him. When the baby was placed carefully, Max stepped back to look at the picture. Logan looked so natural holding Sofiya like that and said so.

            "It's been a long time since I held a baby," Logan said.

            "When was the last time?" Max asked, sitting down.

            Logan gave it some thought. He'd never really held a baby—this was almost like his first time. But from his childhood in front of the TV he had learned a few things and from watching his mother handling young kids. "I guess, um about twelve years," he lied. "I was uh, babysitting and, ah—"

            Max interrupted him with a peal of laughter. "That is such bull!"

            "What?"

            "You've never held a baby either. Stop lying, I can read you like a book, Logan Cale."

            Logan blushed. Caught in the act was the worst way to go. "I know some things," he said quickly. "It's not like I'm as naïve as you are."

            "Who said I was naïve?"

            "You said you were completely clueless…"

            "Clueless, not naïve."

            "Same thing. So, uh…you have a kid," Logan said after a pause.

            "No shit."

            "I take it she's not yours?"

            "Oh gee how'd you figure that one out, Sherlock?" replied Max in her usual derisive tone. Then, she realized what she'd just said and apologized. "I'm not in the world's best mood today."

            "The red hair."

            "Huh?"

            "She has red hair, unless she takes after her father."

            Father. Max remembered Clio's letter and withdrew it from her bra. "This was in her bassinette when I found her on my doorstep this morning." She held it out to him.

            "How cliché," Logan shifted Sofiya so he could read it. After he did, he inhaled sharply and gave it back. "Quite a situation."

            "And Sofiya's father is as much a mystery as Joshua's," Max propped her head up with her hands and rested her elbows on her knees. "But at least Joshua knew his father. I mean, Clio makes him sound so puzzling and secretive."

            Logan was silent for a minute. Sofiya gurgled and reached up to snatch Logan's glasses off his face. She giggled at as if she were mocking him. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "I think you're rubbing off on her already, Max. I think Sofiya's training to be a cat burglar. Aren't you, Sofiya? Yes, you are…" Logan baby-talked. He unwrapped Sofiya's tiny fingers from the earpiece of his glasses frames and put them back on.

            Max scoffed. "You are such a cornball."

            "Hey, I'm thirty and I don't have kids. This may be the only chance I get to act like a cornball," Logan answered in his own defense. "Anyway, as you were saying?"

            "Clio and Sofiya's father. About who he could be."

            "Do you think there's any chance the Chosen could be involved with all this?"

            "There's a huge possibility," Max agreed. "Remember when Clio said that her ex tried to get her to join and that persuaded her to take them down?"

            "Yes I do."

            "I'm thinking her ex is Aurelius Parvo."


	8. Jumping To Conclusions

            "Parvo?" Logan raised an eyebrow. "I highly doubt it."

            "Why?" Max flared. 

            "Didn't Clio's letter say Sofiya was from a copulation?"

            She read the letter again, for the hundredth time. "Yeah, but who knows? It could be a cover up. How old do you think Sofiya looks? Clio didn't mention."

            Logan studied the sleepy infant's face. "A month or so."

            "A month or so," Max repeated with a wry smile. "Who knows if Parvo was or wasn't a Manticore-ian?"

            "Because…because…" Logan sputtered. "I mean, there was no record of the Chosen or Aurelius Parvo until this reliquary thing, but still—"

            "Logan, have you ever in the slightest thought of the possibility that you might be wrong for once?" Max snapped.

            A tense silence hung in the air until Sofiya began crying.

            "What's wrong with her?"

            "You're the baby-sitter," Logan said curtly. "You figure it out."

            "Oh, no," Max scoffed. "You're _not_ gonna act all pissy just because you could be mistaken on who this kid's dad is, Logan Cale. _You're_ holding her, _you _figure it out."

            Mumbling to himself, Logan wheeled his chair with one arm while cradling the baby and asked Max to hand him a blanket or a towel. Max went into the bathroom and came back with a soft terrycloth towel and spread it out on the kitchen table, where Logan carefully laid Sofiya on. 

            "Do you have a bag or something?" he asked, keeping one hand on the baby so she wouldn't roll off. 

            "Uh, yeah," Max went to the foyer where she had dropped the diaper bag. "I had a hell of a time riding my bike with it….do you know how to change a baby?"

            "Sort of," Logan admitted. "I spent a lot of time parked in front of the TV as a kid so I know some stuff." He rifled through the diaper bag as he spoke. "Plus when I was a senior in high school they gave us these baby dolls with built-in computers and we had to take care of them."

            "What?" Max plopped on a chair to study how Logan would handle this.

            "The health class teacher paired everyone up, two by two, boy and girl, and pronounced them husband and wife," Logan said as he began to change Sofiya. "Then they gave each couple a baby doll and that was suppost to be their kid. It had a computer in it and it would make the baby cry and to make it stop crying, there were different keys you stuck in it's back: one for feeding or changing or anything. If you neglected it, the computer would know and then 'tattle' on you because the teacher checked the computers for the data."

            "Sounds creepy," Max laughed. "Who'd you get paired up with?"

            Logan thought a minute. "Kathy Lupinski. She was a smart kid. Tall, blond, Polish. A great 'mom'. Wonder whatever happened to her?"

            "You think I'd be a great mom, Logan?" Max asked softly. 

            "Considering the fact that you came running to me when Sofiya showed up," Logan began, as he finished changing the baby. "I think _I'm_ the one that would make the great mom."

            "I'm serious, Logan," Max snapped. "I'm just like every girl. Don't think I don't think about getting married or having kids at least once in awhile."

            Logan realized what Max was talking about. When he read between the lines, she was obviously saying, _"Do you think my life will ever be as normal as possible?"_ He pursed his lips and thought a bit. "I think there's a perfect chance of you being a great mom, Max."

            "Yeah," Max smiled to herself. "It'd be nice to have some little Max juniors running around with barcodes on the back of their necks."

            "Does Sofiya have one?"

            "Wouldn't be surprised."

            "Take her for a second will you? I need to analyze the letter," Logan nodded towards Sofiya, who gurgled to herself contently. 

            "For what?" Max asked, picking up Sofiya carefully. 

            "Anything," Logan turned his wheelchair and made his way toward his office. "Fingerprints, clues, suspicious hairs…anything that might lead and point us towards Clio and Sofiya's father. Whether they be apart or separated."

            "Hear that, Sofiya? Uncle Logan's gonna find you're mommy and daddy," Max cooed, mocking Logan, speaking as he had done earlier. "Yes he is. Yes he is. Who's a pretty baby? _You_ are! Yes you are!"

            "Max, please. You're making me sick."

            "Let me enjoy it," Max laughed. "I've never been with a baby before—alive or a doll. I wanna get the most out of it. Right, Sofiya?"

            Sofiya laughed and flailed her arms in the air.

            "I think she likes me."

            "Babies like everyone. They're naturally sociable. No one can pass up a baby," Logan said without taking his eyes off the computer screen. He was typing very fast without looking at the keyboard.

            "I bet you can."

            "Yeah, well, I'm not the best with kids. I've seen you with them, though, Max. Plenty of times. Sage…Case…Jude…"

            "You remember those times?" Max asked, surprised.

            "Well, I didn't see you with Jude but from what I heard, you were like his mother."

            "I don't know how I could be a mother," Max took the tiny brown teddy bear from Sofiya's bag and waved it in front of Sofiya's face, playing with her. Sofiya giggled and cooed. "I've never had a mother so I couldn't really get any instincts from her, watching her, finding out what to do about this and that."

            "Either way, you're almost a natural with them. It's amazing."

            Max beamed, "Thanks."

            Logan sighed heavily and spun around from his computers. "Her letter's really vague. This is gonna be a tough one."

            "Alec!" Max said all of a sudden.

            "Beg pardon?"

            "When I saw Alec today, he looked at me funny when I told him I was taking care of Sofiya for another X5."

            "Maybe he was surprised that you would do something like that."

            "It wasn't at me," Max said, realizing. "It was Sofiya."

            "Are you sure Alec could be Sofiya's father, though? I mean, is it possible? Alec was your copulation partner, not Clio's."

            "Yeah but who knows what Alec arranged? He sold his vitamins to the guards for sobbing out loud. He's a pimp!"

            "First we're jumping on Parvo, who's dead, and now we're coming to the conclusion it might be Alec? Listen, Max, Sofiya's father could be guy in Seattle or even Wyoming. Hell, he could be in Florida for all we know but for now, we should concentrate on finding Clio."

            "Yeah…okay. Fine."

            Logan re-read the letter. "We're gonna have to pull an all-nighter on this one."


	9. Revealed

            A/N – sorry this took so long to post y'all but I had a helluva time figuring out the mystery myself ;-) Thanks to Stearns for letting me borrow his catchphrases, Janice for her motivation and Belize for being Watson to my Sherlock Holmes. I hope you all enjoy this installment! Luv, CW

All-nighter was right. While Logan tracked down lead after lead, Max played mommy to Sofiya until eventually both girls fell asleep on Logan's couch, unaware to Logan.

At eleven PM, he noticed that Max had not complained for over an hour nor had Sofiya. Quietly rolling into the den, he saw them conked out together, with the baby on Max's chest and Max's hand on Sofiya's back. Both were breathing softly, almost melodiously.

"Hey sleeping beauty," Logan joked, whispering into Max's ear. "Rise and shine."

Max gave no answer so he picked up a pencil and poked her in the shoulder. Hard. Still, she didn't budge. Logan gave a heavy sigh and threw the pencil across the room. He heard it smack the wall and roll across the floor.

It had been a long evening. Wherever Clio had hidden herself, she had done it well. Logan was in no mood to play hide and seek but he knew how painful it was to grow up with out a mother, even though he was not very young when his passed on. If he couldn't find Clio, he'd be crushed. Sofiya was too little to be abandoned like this, especially with Max.

_A mother is a key aspect in any child's life._

_L_ogan wheeled back into his office and stared blankly at the screen which showed the latest newspaper article involving Aurelius Parvo and the Chosen.

_Why am I concentrating on Parvo?_

_G_etting a stroke of genius, Logan logged onto a search engine and typed in Clio Belmont. Almost immediately, an interesting article popped up. It was a police file.

**CLIO BELMONT**

**AGE: 20**

**BIRTHDATE: July 4, 2000**

**HEIGHT: 5 foot 6**

**WEIGHT: 110 lbs  
HAIR: red  
EYES: green  
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: barcode tattoo on back of neck, tattoo of eagle across her back, tattoo of US flag on hip.**

**            Clio Belmont is wanted in Washington and Oregon for armed robbery, fraud and murder. Believed to be extremely strong. May be carrying a concealed weapon at all times. Wanted Alive. $75,000 reward**

            Logan sat back, astounded. The nice, good-natured, perky little redhead he'd met four days ago with an adorable daughter was wanted in two states for armed robbery, fraud and _murder_?

            "_MAX_!" Logan called. "_MAX GET IN HERE_!"

            He heard her moan and grumble. "What?"

            "Max, I can't wait for you to see this … get in here!"

            She blew out a puff of air, carefully removed Sofiya who was using her breasts as a pillow, off her chest and into her bassinette. She sauntered into Logan's office and retorted with a yawn,

            "You rang, Great and Powerful Eyes Only?"

            "Read this."

            Max ground sleep out of her eyes and focused on the file Logan pulled up. After she read it a few times, her eyes widened in disbelief. 

            "Are you shittin' me?"

            "It's all there in black and white, Max."

            "This is not cool, Logan. She's a fugitive! That's why she left Sofiya with me! She's on the run from the cops and I helped her escape!"

            "No you didn't. No one exactly asked you to watch Sofiya."

            Max blew a few strands out of her face and cradled her head in her hands. "What could she have done?"

            "Armed robbery I can understand. When you have a child, you'll go through anything for them. She probably held up a convenience store," Logan said quickly, trying to soften the blow and salvage Max's dignity.

            "But murder? Jesus."

            "It couldn't have been Parvo. You did that. No one would've caught you anyway."

            "What about Sofiya's father?"

            "What about him?"

            "Maybe he was the one she murdered? Maybe that's why we can't find him?"

            "Possibly."

            "This is one of the most ridiculous mysteries I've ever encountered."

            "Just remember we're also dealing with the welfare of a child."

            "Save it, Mother Goose. We may be dealing with the welfare of a child but also with the child of a wanted murderer. We can get into some deep shit."

            "Correction: just by having Sofiya here, we're already in deep shit. If Clio comes back, anyone who sees this file can turn her in like that," Logan snapped his fingers, "for that kind of money and Sofiya will either be stuck here with you or sent to an orphanage."

            "This whole situation is ri-God-damn-diculous," Max muttered to herself. "If she's wanted in Washington and Oregon, she won't be there. Maybe she's in Cali."

            "Plausible."

            "Then again there's the possibility of Idaho, Montana, Nevada and Utah. I don't think she'd go to Wyoming, for obvious reasons."

            "Well, we're not doing any good by guessing, Max."

            Max, out of absolute nervousness, began to pace, pounding her fists into her thighs to the point of bruising.

            "I'm such an idiot."

            "No you're not. Stop that. None of this is your fault," Logan reprimanded harshly. "The only idiot in this situation is Clio."

            "I'm really frustrated right now … I let a murderer get away, I have a kid who isn't mine … this is fuckin great."

            "Language, please."

            "Oh, like you care."

            "Max, you're acting like a child."

            "Well listen, I can't be held responsible for Clio's actions."

            "No one can, especially Clio in this case."

            There was an awkward silence between the two.

            "So," Max sat back. "We have a baby."

            "Supposedly," Logan retorted with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Should I start calling you Mom?"

            "Uh, how about 'no'?" Max glared at him. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, in a joking manner, _Not unless I can call you Daddy_, but it sounded like something Alec said nights ago. "So … I know if I go back to my place, OC will go berserk just for having Sofiya there. I guess I'm stuck here until something's done about Clio."

            "Guess so."

            "While I'm here," Max eyed Logan's bedroom door. "Can I wear those awesome sweatpants?"

            "You mean 'your' sweatpants? I can't really call them mine anymore—you borrow them all the time."

            Max was already there. She had slammed the door behind her and emerged ten minutes later looking like a college co-ed, with her hair all in her face, falling softly onto her shoulders and wearing Logan's sweatpants, Logan's t-shirt and Logan's socks.

            "Don't you look comfortable," Logan laughed.

            "Yeah well get used to sharing your clothes, buddy," Max said, passing the office and into the kitchen. Logan wheeled after her. "If I'm going to be staying here I sure as hell want to be comfortable. No leather for a few days," she proclaimed from inside the refrigerator.

            "I'll believe it when I see it. Hungry?"

            "Yeah. How'd you guess?"

            "Well you only stay for extended periods of time without reason for food. Tonight is no exception," Logan closed the refrigerator. "C'mon Max, I'm the one that has to pay the bills here."

            Sofiya woke up and began to bawl. Max winced. The sound of babies crying put her in distress.

            "I'll whip up something while you be Mommie Dearest," Logan said.

            She nodded, leaving the kitchen to the living room where Sofiya lay in her bassinette, wailing. 

"Aw, Sofiya," Max cooed in a motherly manner. "Are you hungry, cutie?" She picked up the wailing child.

As she cradled Sofiya and rustled through the diaper bag for a bottle and some formula to feed her, a loud knocking came at the door. 

            "I'll get it," Logan exclaimed, making his way towards the foyer.

            Max sauntered into the kitchen, bouncing the baby to calm her down. At least she'd stopped screaming. With one hand and much difficulty, she tried to prepare a bottle using the powdered formula. She was instantly overwhelmed with respect for all the moms that did this daily. For Max, this was only a taste.

            Man, I so don't want kids, she thought to herself as shook her head. She cocked her head and listened as Logan opened the door.

            "Can I help you?" he asked.

            "I'm looking for Clio Belmont," the deep, hard voice said.

            "Well, I'm sorry to say Clio has departed and has not been back for several days," Logan replied coolly.

            In the kitchen, Sofiya had knocked the bottle out of Max's hand and began crying again. Frustrated and blowing some escaped strands of hair out of her eyes, Max picked up the bottle and tried to put it back into Sofiya's mouth but she wouldn't take it.

            "Is that not Clio's child?" the man inquired, referring to 

            "Why, what's it to you?" Logan sat back in his chair. There was something about this guy he did not like.

            "I need to see Clio," the man insisted.  "Get her for me now."

            "Listen, my _wife_ and I," Logan said sternly, punctuating the word wife, loud enough for Max to hear. She did and blushed, "are watching Clio's daughter as a favor."

            "Sweetie," Max said syrupy sweet, coming out of the kitchen into the foyer, holding Sofiya. "Who is it?"

            "Someone looking for Clio," Logan said, playing along with Max. He glanced back at the guy in the in the doorway and back at Max, who had also taken a good look at him. A expression of abject terror had wiped over her face. "Honey? What is it?"

            Only one word escaped her lips. A word that chilled her to the very bones. It came out in an ominous whisper,

            "Lydecker."


	10. Even More Revealed

**A/N – "There You Are!" Congrats to Stearns, Allie, Maia, Timur, Paul, Steve, Justin, Ryan, Shanna, Sacha and the rest of the cast of _Drood_ on a job well done! You're truly a unique cast! Luv, C.W. ("Don't Quit While You're Ahead"!)**

"Max?" Logan watched as her face turned a pale white. He wheeled over and she placed Sofiya in his arms and approached the visitor.

            "How dare you …" Max hissed. 

            "Do I know you?" the visitor said. 

            Max shook her head in disbelief, "You son of a blue balled bitch!" she sneered. "How can you stand there and ask if you know me?"

            "I beg your pardon I'm sure."

            "Max," Logan said harshly. "Mind telling me what's going on?"

            "I can't believe this," she said to herself. "Logan, do you have any idea who this is?"

            "Someone you accused of being Lydecker, who's dead," Logan reminded her. He'd gotten all the facts from Matt Sung. 

            "They never found the body!"

            "Max, will you sit down and shut up?"

            "Wait," the visitor exclaimed. Max and Logan looked at him. "I can see I'm not going to fool you."

            "Huh?" 

            "I am, as I once was known, Donald Lydecker."

            Max felt her knees go weak but she did not faint. She slowly sat down on the couch and stared blankly into space. Alarmed, Logan put Sofiya in her bassinette and went over to comfort Max. The visitor, supposedly Lydecker, followed.

            "How can you be Lydecker?" Logan said. "You're dead."

            "You don't look much like him either," Max said.

            Lydecker ran his hand through his dark hair. Yes, it _was_ an interesting change from his usual look. What else made him look different? Oh right, the glasses. He'd poked the lenses out of his father's old eyeglasses and replaced them with regular Plexiglas. "It made it easier to watch for my 'kids' after what you did."

            "Renfro gave me no choice," she replied coolly. "I don't get it, Lydecker, why are you here? How'd you survive the crash?"

            Lydecker removed the glasses and put them in his coat pocket. He cleared his voice, "Well, when I was knocked off the road, my car did indeed go into the reservoir. I hit my head and blacked out for a bit but the cold water stunned me and woke me up. At first, I was unable to move my legs—they were trapped. Holding my breath until the point of my lungs almost bursting I was able to free myself and swim to the surface. Since then I've been tracking down almost every Manticore-ian I was able to get my hands on using a private detective. Of course this detective did not know me as Donald Lydecker but using an alias, that of Laurence Dennison. I told this detective that the people he was looking for were my family. Which they almost were. At least, _you_ were like my—"

            "Save the sentimentality," Max snapped.

"I see you're still the hotheaded rouge that I left," a small smile crossed Lydecker's face.

"You don't look anything like you used to," Max said, softer this time. She stole a glance at Logan, who was listening intently. "The dark hair, the glasses. It's interesting."

Lydecker cleared his throat, "I heard about Zack. And I'm sorry. For doing that. Or rather for letting Renfro do that. I know how much the two of you loved each other as brother and sister."

"Yeah. So," Max abruptly switched topics. "Why were you so hooked on looking for Clio and her baby?"

"I knew that question was going to come up," he sighed. "And I'm not proud of the answer … It's a long story."

"We have time," Logan said.

Max's heart skipped a beat. She thought she knew what was coming. She was afraid that if she said anything he would stop talking so she clamped her teeth down over her bottom lip. 

"I fell in love with Clio's mother, Isabelle Monte, while she was a surrogate. I called her my Bella. Sweetest little thing in the world—red hair, clear blue eyes, adorable features and one freckle as cute as the next. She was only about twenty when she came to Manticore. I saw her and was stricken. I was very lonely at the time. Anna had been dead for about five years by then … "

"So you had a rebound fling with Clio's mom. Get to the point, Deck, what does this have to do with Sofiya?" Max said. 

"I'm getting there," Lydecker said. "I told you it was a long story. 

"When Clio was born, Bella … Bella didn't make it. During the delivery there were too many complications. Her heart rate dropped so fast that she just slipped away about a half hour after Clio was born. I was deeply scarred, thinking dust was all I was worth. Both women I'd loved deeply in my life were both gone.

"X5-803, or Clio, quickly became my favorite after you and the others escaped. She was, as I had intended, the semblance of her mother. Same hair, eyes, features and freckles. She grew … she grew so beautiful. So much like Bella. I'm only human …"

"Dear God," Logan mumbled.

"One night, I came to her cell. I was drunk—I'd been drinking heavily over the loss of everything that was dear to me and also out of anger at Renfro for taking you, taking Brin and Tinga. I'd snuck in, disguised as a guard. I didn't see her as Clio, but as her mother, as Bella."

Max's jaw dropped open, "So you're …"

"Sofiya's father."


End file.
